


Something

by Xx_Astrid_xX



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Major Original Character(s), Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 20:44:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9141505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xx_Astrid_xX/pseuds/Xx_Astrid_xX
Summary: There was something about Samantha Black-Malfoy that caught the attention of Severus Snape.





	

There was something about Samantha Black-Malfoy that was very curious to Severus Snape.  
It was deep in the heart of winter, not too long before Christmas break ended, in early 1996. A meeting for the Order was about to begin, but the only members that were in the dining room of 12 Grimmauld Place was Snape, Black, Dumbledore, Molly and Arthur Weasley, and the youngest member of the Order; Black-Malfoy herself.  
She was eighteen, if Snape was not mistaken, and in her final year at Hogwarts. She was perhaps only two or three centimeters shorter than Snape- who was roughly 180- but the fluff of her curly hair set her equal to him. The hair was down to her chin and was large, loose curls that were jet black until they were caught in bright light; then, they shone a deep mahogany. Her porcelain skin was smooth and looked as soft as skin could be. She had large, dark eyes, that were the deepest shade of silver and looked like saucers on her pretty face. Her nose was slightly large, slightly bent, and her lips were full and a deep mauve. She had a square jaw, as did run in the Black family, and rather large ears. She had a long neck and a stout body. Her hips blended into lovehandles, making her abdomen seem very short. Her waist dived in quickly somewhere around the middle of her ribcage and flared back up as her large bosom flared out. She had a rather large, round bottom and long, thick legs; her thighs moved when she walked, but her shins appeared to be all muscle. Her legs ended in large boots. Her arms were thick as well, but her hands were small and her nails were all different lengths; most were down to the pinks, and none were longer than her fingertips, though they all seemed straight.  
She wore a grey tank top that went up to just below her collarbone, though it stopped at her rather high belly button. Her jeans, tight on her hips and loose on her legs, came to just below, and her feet donned brown leather boots, worn, and on the seat in front of her a matching jacket lay.  
She was the daughter of Sirius Black and Valyn Malfoy, the cousin of Lucius. The Dark Lord had killed her mother only hours before he'd killed the Potters, and after that, her father had been sent to Azkaban.  
Snape had overheard Lupin talking to her one day, when he had been the DADA Professor, and he'd found her crying one late evening.  
"Sammie?" He'd asked, surprised, as she scrambled away to compose herself in the empty school corridor. "What- what happened?" Lupin had set down his brief case and kneeled beside her. It was odd for Severus to see a girl of sixteen crying, in a ball, on the ground. She quickly composed herself, at least a bit.  
"Do you remember me?" She'd asked in her rough, slightly high voice.  
"I- why would- what do you-" Lupin feigned not to understand, but even from two meters away, Snape saw the guilt in his eyes.  
"Don't you, Uncle Moony?" Confusion rushed through Snape.  
"I... Yes, I do." Lupin took a moment to answer, his voice dropping low, his head falling.  
"My father broke out of Azkaban, and instead of coming for me- his daughter!- he goes to that snot-nose Potter. I'm his child, not him-" Hatred was rising in her voice, but she cut herself off and hung her head as well.  
"I... You were his world-"  
"Obviously not!" The girl had roared then.  
"-Azkaban does things to people. You and your mother were both very happy things for him. The dementors suck out happy memories, and you two were the happiest-"  
"I'm not a memory, I'm a person," argued Sammie, though her voice revealed that she followed his logic perfectly. She was a smart girl, Snape knew- she'd never gotten anything lower than an O, in his class or anyone else's.  
Snape didn't know if Sammie had ever confronted Black about her being his child, but he did know that Sammie, the girl who'd hex her friends for belittling other students- had never even put up a token fight whenever her Slytherin schoolmates were cruel to Harry Potter ever again.  
"They're late," hissed the girl as the clock turned to four in the morning.  
"Patience, dear," Dumbledore bid her, eyes twinkling in their condescending way. Sammie all but sneered at him.  
Tonks Apparated into the room just as Lupin opened the door. The pink-haired Hufflepuff looked at Sammie, her childhood friend, and grinned at the latter's sour expression before sitting in the chair her Slytherin counterpart was leaning on.  
Lupin walked leisurely towards Black and sat beside him.  
In the next five minutes, the other members arrived.  
"There's been a breakout. I've done my best to conceal to news-" Sammie began as soon as Kingsley, the last to arrive, sat down.  
"Slow down, Samantha. A breakout from?"  
"From Azkaban. Ten of them, all Death Eaters. Rookwood, Travers, Dolohov, Mulciber, Avery Jr and Sr, Rosier, and all three Lestranges." Sammie's jaw tensed. "All of whom have found shelter at the Malfoy Manor... Along with Voldemort himself."  
Dumbledore grew solemn as his he looked into Sammie's eyes. "Voldemort is at your house?"  
"Yes," Sammie said. "He thinks my resemblance to my 'Aunt Bellatrix' is uncanny. To which, Bellatrix assured him that I refer to her as 'Auntie Bella'." The girl looked like she was going to be sick.  
"Well, I'm sure she and Narcissa will, at very least, safeguard you and Draco from the other Death Eaters."  
Sammie laughed a humorless laugh. "Will she?" Her eyes were nearly black then, and she leaned forward, over Tonks. "She tortured me when I lived her, when Walburga was too sick to. She took me out back and used the Cruciatus Curse on me until I killed Muggle children playing in the woods. She locked me in Kreacher's cupboard for days without food." Her voice was low and hateful. "And I have to look in the mirror and see her face everyday. When I shower, I see all the scars she's left. And when I look at her..." Sammie swallowed. "I can't even blame her for it. She's so completely insane that she truly thinks she's helping me." Sammie stood up, lip quivering, nose twitching. "And I assure you, that if anyone so much as lays a finger on Draco, I will rip it off."  
"Noted," Dumbledore managed.  
"Like I was saying," Sammie said and flushed. "I've done my best to keep word away from the Ministry, but we can't keep it a secret for very much longer."  
"I already have everything prepared to tell the Minister, sir," Kingsley spoke up, looking at Dumbledore. "You need only give word..."  
"Yes. Go now, Kingsley, for this is a matter of great importance..."  
Kingsley left.  
The rest of the meeting was them all arguing about the best way to take care of it. Sammie, Tonks, Moody, Black, and Arthur and Molly Weasley argued that the best course of action was to go directly to Malfoy Manor to fight right then and there- bring Voldemort into the light so that Fudge couldn't deny that Voldemort was back any longer. Dumbledore, however, said it was far too risky, and everyone but Snape and the supporters of Sammie's proposition agreed.  
"People would die," Dumbledore said.  
"People are going to die regardless," Sammie pointed out. "We have the element of surprise. We need to make the first move-"  
"And what if Voldemort flees before we can prove it to him?" Dumbledore countered.  
"We could film it," Tonks suggested.  
The meeting didn't end until half past six, and it continued on just the same. Snape was never the kind of person to plot out a war, or know what were the right moves to make. He was simply the spy that delivered news.  
However when the meeting did end, it ended with Dumbledore instructing everyone to wait for a more urgent matter to come along. He left soon after, and so did everyone else... Until only Sammie, Tonks, Lupin, Molly, and Sirius were in the room.  
"Haven't you a cauldron to stick your nose into?" Sirius sneered. "You're usually the first one to leave, Snivellus."  
"Shut up," snapped Sammie. Sirius looked at her.  
"Are you going to make me, girl?" Sirius countered. His voice was all in play, but as annoying as ever... It seemed Sammie concurred with Snape on that.  
"You're a sad, sad man, and a swine of a man," She hissed. Lupin cleared his throat, and Sammie looked at him.  
"Ever the peacekeeper, are we, Professor?"  
"I haven't been your professor in two years, Sammie," Lupin reminded her gently.  
"My apologies, Moony," Sammie said. Lupin tensed.  
"That's his Marauder name," Sirius said, eyes looking at Sammie, surprised.  
"I'm very well aware of that, thank you," Sammie said condescendingly.  
No one spoke for a while. Lupin picked at his nails, Sirius drank whatever alcohol he had in the flask upon his hip, and Tonks stared at Sammie while Sammie glared at Sirius and Snape watched it all unfold. Eventually, however, Tonks Disapparated and Lupin went to go check on the children and Sirius left without another word.  
"Professor," Sammie addressed Snape.  
"Miss Black-Malfoy. A very interesting relationship you have with your father." Sammie looked at him, surprised, before looking down.  
"Yes, well," she said gently. She was softer now, and she looked worn down and fragile, as well as very tired. Snape walked over to her, and she braced herself, tensing, and turned to look up at him.  
"There is something about you," Snape said. "That I cannot exactly pinpoint."  
"Is it a good something, or a bad something?" Sammie asked.  
"Good. You're my favorite student."  
"I'm flattered," Sammie said, looking into his eyes.  
They were quite close to one another, close enough that he felt her breath on his lips. He could kiss her, if he wanted.  
Which he, of course, did not. There was just... Something about her, indeed.


End file.
